


Into the Badlands

by donutsweeper



Category: Killjoys (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mission Fic, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5411819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsweeper/pseuds/donutsweeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What should have been a simple level one warrant turns into something much more dangerous than either Dutch or Johnny could have expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Badlands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [intrikate88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intrikate88/gifts).



"Why are we doing this again?" Johnny shouted, the wind whipping his words away as the rambler sped over the rough terrain, its shocks doing little to cushion them from turbulent ride.

"Because it’s an easy level one." Dutch was grinning, obviously enjoying the ride as much as he was.

"Gotta love those easy transpos," Johnny agreed. "But I don’t think that’s it."

"Bellus personally asked us to take this warrant out, something she rarely does."

"True, but that’s not it either."

"So now she owes us a favor, which is always useful."

"Definitely useful. Also incorrect."

"Which brings me to the real reason." She looked at him, her grin slipping into one of those wide, carefree smile of hers that Johnny rarely got to see, but completely treasured. 

"Which is?"

"You love the badlands!"

Johnny whooped loudly. "I _love_ the badlands!"

It was wonderful to be away from both Lucy's recycled air and the heavy air and oppressive heat that had been gripping Old Town for the past few days. The air in the badlands was just as thick, for numerous reasons, and the heat just as bad, but being on a warrant meant none of that mattered. The fact it was such a simple job helped; not that Johnny minded all the level threes and fours they'd been working, but a break from the hecticness was nice.

Today all they had to do was deliver the package they'd picked up from Lethe that morning to the set of coordinates the warrant provided. Why a group of people were out in the badlands and what they were doing there Johnny had no idea, but Bellus apparently did and had gone out of her way to ask them to take the warrant, so if it wasn't on the level it was at least not likely to get them killed. Bellus wouldn't do that to Dutch. Well, not to him either. Probably. Maybe. Most likely not anyway. But definitely not to Dutch.

All in all it took the better part of the afternoon to drive to the drop off point, a thrown together group of tents and huts erected in the shady part of a steep canyon. Out of habit Johnny paused on the crest of a hill before heading into the enclosed terrain and was immediately glad he did. Despite it being the middle of the day and therefore the agreed about time for delivery, there was no one there to greet them and take possession of the warrant. In fact, from what he could see, there didn't seem to be anyone moving about in the entire camp. 

Johnny could tell from cautionary hand Dutch put on his arm that the unexpected emptiness below them was making her as uneasy as he was. "Go in slowly," she said, her voice calm and steady. "Guns at the ready, just in case."

He nodded in response, easing his gun out of its holster and onto his lap before sliding the rambler back into gear and heading it into the valley at an even, guarded, pace. From the various pieces of machinery he could see as they approached it became obvious this was a not a camp of scavengers; these weren't the basic tools desperate people took into Company stripped lands to try to eke out a living on what had been left behind but rather expensive surveying and extracting equipment. 

Despite there being no people, there were signs that the camp had been occupied recently. Tables had food on them, jackets were tossed and abandoned on chairs, a small pile of empty beer and liquor bottles sat next to a case of hundred joy bottles of hokk. Johnny pulled to a halt in front of it to take a better look. The only thing moving in the entire camp other than themselves was an unsecured tent flap, caught by the breeze and swaying back and forth.

"Okay, this is a little creepy," he said. "Do you think we've been sent on some kind of wild goose chase?"

"Bellus wouldn't do that to us, Johnny."

Johnny sighed. Dutch was right, but that didn't make him feel any better. He pulled out his padd and had just brought up the warrant, planning on rechecking its details even though he was positive they'd gotten the time and place correct, when Dutch grabbed his shoulder. He had the padd tucked away and his gun drawn before he even registered what had caught her attention- a change of the wind had brought with it the acrid, sharp smell of recent plasma weapons fire and the nauseating aroma of what must have been quite a lot of burnt flesh, considering how strong the stench was.

"That's probably where we're supposed to deliver our warrant," Johnny said, jutting his chin towards a table slightly ahead of them, set up directly in front of the largest of the tents in approximately the center of the camp. "Technically, this one doesn't require a hand off so I guess we could just leave it here?" Most of the time, even when Killjoys were hired to be nothing more than a courier with a gun, they still documented the transfer of possession despite there not being an official need for one.

When Dutch didn't respond, Johnny looked over at her. She was standing a few feet from the rambler, staring at the edge of the camp where something had gotten her attention. "Dutch?" 

"The smell's coming from there. Does that look like a security projection to you?"

Johnny squinted at the rocky area she was pointing too. "Yeah, maybe," he conceded. Overall, it looked like every other patch of rock and dirt in the badlands, but there was something slightly off about it, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. 

"Cover me?" Dutch asked, aiming her own weapon at the stretch of ground as she slowly approached. 

Johnny did a sweep of the canyon and then the cliffs on either side of it, pausing when he thought he caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. "I think we got company," he warned, pitching his voice low enough that she would be able to hear him but it wouldn't carry. 

Dutch had just started to examine whatever the security projection was hiding when whoever had been observing them began to fire. The first blast fell short of their location, hitting one of the outer tents of the camp instead, but it was immediately followed by numerous others that were much closer. "Shit!" Johnny yelled as he shot back, covering Dutch as she ran back to join him. "At least five of them, up on that ridge," he yelled as she jumped into the rambler and he threw it into gear.

"Six," she corrected. "And four more on the far cliff. Go, go, go!"

Dutch stood in her seat, braced against the windshield, returning fire as Johnny sped out of the canyon as fast as he could while maintaining control of the vehicle. There was probably too much distance for them, or their pursuers, to actually get hit by any of the plasma fire, but Johnny didn't plan on testing that theory. "They're following?"

"Three vehicles," Dutch confirmed, dropping down sideways onto the seat, keeping an eye behind them. "They must have been hidden behind another projection."

"How do you want to play this?" The rambler's engine was good, he'd tweaked it himself. Given that and the amount of head start they already had, there was a chance they could outpace the others all the way out of the badlands. Maybe. Unless the other engines had been upgraded as well. Of course, it wasn't guaranteed the chase would end once they hit the borders of Old Town either, but Johnny would be able to find them a place to hide if they made it there with enough of a lead. And luckily there was no way their pursuers would be able to radio for reinforcements until they got out of the badlands, there was just too much interference for that, no matter what kind of communications they had.

"Try to lose them along the old ravine trail. If they're not as good as you there's an even chance they'll lose control and crash."

"No one's as good as me!" he shot back, grinning.

Throwing the rambler into a sharp right once they passed the next hill, he sped eastwards for almost an hour, stealing only the occasional glance at the vehicles behind them. "They’re gaining on us, not much, but-"

"But enough that if we don't lose them along the way they'll be within firing range before we hit Old Town, I know." Damn it. This was not turning out to be the fun little adventure in the badlands he'd been hoping for. "What the hell was that security projecting hiding, anyway? You investigating it has to be why they're chasing us, but why wait for us to find it before firing? If they'd set themselves up differently they could have taken us out as soon as soon as we crested the ridge."

"Not if they were trying to keep their presence there a secret. They were probably counting on the fact that according to the terms of the warrant we could have just dropped it off and left." Dutch turned, sitting in the seat properly, and leaned closer so she didn't have to shout. "It was hiding a mass grave, Johnny. Eleven Qreshi scientists. They'd been executed."

He risked dragging his attention away from the terrain to look at her for a moment. "Executed?" 

"One shot to the back of the head. Up close and personal. They didn't stand a chance."

"Which family?" 

"I couldn't tell, they weren't wearing any colors. I assume they were taken to hide their identity."

"Or they never had them on in the first place." It really could have been either case, if one family had found something of value that the Company had left behind after stripping the land bare they would have had every reason to try to keep that secret and if _anyone_ had discovered that one family was on its way to having some kind of an edge over the others, well, they'd want to do whatever was necessary to find out what it was and keep that secret for themselves.

Johnny had been slowly altering their heading to be more southeastwards and twenty minutes later they were approaching the cliffs that bracketed the ravine. "Hold tight!" The rambler careened around the rocks, its left front tire airborne for just a moment before settling onto the narrow trail with a spray of pebbles and dirt. At the speed they were going staying on it took all his concentration, but he couldn't help whooping with joy when he heard a crash behind them. "One down!" he shouted.

"Don't get cocky, that still leaves two of them!" Dutch reminded him. Which… was a very good point. And it turned out to be a valid one, since he didn't hear any more crashes behind them. After seeing the first one crash the other two vehicles must have slowed down enough to take the turn and the rest of the trail safely. 

They were almost to the end of the ravine, which meant a straight ride back to Old Town when Dutch cursed loudly under her breath.

"What's wrong? Are they gaining on us?" Johnny had hoped that his familiarity with the trail's twists and turns had let him use more speed than their pursuers, giving them and unsurmountable lead. Considering there were still two vehicles chasing them, it was pretty much their only hope.

"Worse. Look." Dutch pointed to the horizon.

The second the rambler was on flat land again Johnny looked for himself and immediately muttered the most lengthy and vile Westerlian curse he knew. Storm clouds were rolling in, fast. Huge, dark storm clouds that were between them and Old Town. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Black rain." Dutch pulled out her padd and began clicking around on it. "Do you think we can make it to the caves by Smuggler's Butte?" she asked, tilting it so Johnny could see the map she'd brought up.

He gave their coordinates a quick glance and calculated in his head for a moment. "Yeah, maybe. It'll be tight though." Continuing on their heading and straight into the storm felt wrong, but it was their only option. Trying to outrun the rain was next to impossible, it moved too quickly and spread too far for that. 

They were already going as fast as they could without risking the engine so there was nothing Johnny could do other than point them in the direction they need to go and pray to the trees they'd get there in time. The sky was already crackling by the time Smuggler's Butte appeared on the horizon. "We're not going to make it!" he shouted, racking his brain for a way to survive through the afternoon. "We can flip the rambler and hide under it. Maybe it'll give us enough protection." Of course, that was assuming they _could_ flip it in the first place, which wouldn't be easy to do even if they weren't being chased.

"Just keep going. We'll make it." Dutch seemed calm, how could she be calm? 

"If we don't," he began, taking a hand off the wheel just long enough to gesture at his gun, "I don't want to go that way." He'd seen people staked in the rain; it took a long time for them to die.

"It's not going to come to that, Johnny."

"If it does…"

"It won't."

They were almost there when the first drops of rain began to fall. Hissing at the sting, Johnny continued at their breakneck pace for the last few meters before skidding to a stop, spraying rocks and dirt up against the butte, and then slowly easing the rambler into the first decently-sized cave he saw. Grinning, he turned to Dutch and said, "We made it!"

"I never doubted you for a moment."

The two of them climbed out of their seats and walked to the mouth of the cave. They watched as it began rain in earnest and the two vehicles that had been chasing them lost control and careened haphazardly before crashing, one into a boulder and the other taking a bad jump off a dry bank and crashing engine first into the ground below. "Well, that takes care of that."

"Not quite."

Johnny looked over at Dutch. "What do you mean?"

"We took the warrant, Johnny, there's record of that. They, whoever 'they' is, know we were scheduled to be at that camp to deliver the package. It's what we were hired to do. We're Killjoys," she gave a slight shrug. "And what does everyone know about Killjoys?"

Johnny sighed. "The warrant is all." 

"The warrant is all." Dutch nodded. "Whichever family or families placed the warrant as well as the one or ones behind the people who killed the scientists will know we went to that canyon to deliver it."

"But they won't know exactly when," Johnny pointed out.

"What are you thinking?"

"Once the rain stops we go back and drop off the package. They thought we'd fall for the security projection they'd set up. Let's pretend we did."

"Devious. I like it."

"Besides," Johnny added, bumping her shoulder with his own, "there was a case of hundred joy bottles of hokk there, Dutch. An entire case. I have _always_ wanted to try hundred joy hokk. You're not going to deny me that chance, are you?"

"I wouldn't dream of it."


End file.
